A Flutter of Wings
by CrossGeneration
Summary: Before the adventures of LadyBug and Chat Noir came to be, a villain had to be born. A villain twisted and ruined by fate that he had no choice but to try and fix what he had left of his life. Though he could barely remember what he had lost now, he knew that he could lose no more. There had been enough pain, and enough sorrow. This is the story of how HawkMoth came to be.
1. Prologue: The Very Beginning

I've had this idea since a couple episodes of ML, but never really got into play. Now that the first season's over, I have time to actually write this thing out (before more reveals come out about the characters and my theories become completely invalid, oops ^u^). I've had fun writing this, so try and have fun reading. Comment below what you think (especially on what I could improve on). Thanks!

 **. . . . . . .**

 **There was once little boy always scorned**

 **And on his sleeve his heart was worn**

 **The dangers of this first unknown**

 **Later in his heart grew a thorn**

* * *

 _It was a night worse than others. Gabriel felt the hot tears fall, fall and turn into a river that ran deep and cut into the solid rock of his soul, reaching for his heart. What a gentle and fragile thing it was, a butterfly fluttering trapped inside the stone cage built for protection and preservation. Like the castle described to be surrounding Sleeping Beauty, a hazard of a rose garden protected anything with thorns, as unyielding and sharp as the person they grew inside. He cursed as he stumbled, and decided that he couldn't do this anymore. A mother who was too sick to remember him, a father who too strict to ever be proud of him. If Gabriel took his words to heart, the world would be much better off without him. Most people didn't even know of his existence. They had no use for him, and their lives would continue on without change. His father would finally have time to devote to his growing company. His mother wouldn't even notice._

 _It would be better not to be here._

 _It would be better not to exist._

 _That was the reason behind why a thirteen year old had locked himself inside the bathroom, clinging desperately to a large blade to save him from this god-forbidden hell. For the benefit of everyone around him. For the "greater good."_

 _Heart pounding._

 _Mind reeling._

 _Palms sweating._

 _There are faded scars on the underside of his arm and his legs, but he soon learned that they only made things worse. No. This time, it would be final. The time had come to end the suffering, both his and others. The sharpened metal tip pressed against the soft skin of his stomach, tilted upwards towards the small heart keeping him alive. Keeping him here._

 _..._

 _ **Gabriel, you don't have to do this.**_

 _Who said that?!_

 _ **Gabriel, please. Put the knife down. You know better than this.**_

 _Who are you? What are you?_

 _ **My name is Nooroo. I am a fairy, and I can make things better for you.**_

 _What? N-no, those things don't exist. I'm hallucinating. This is the onsets of death, right? I'm dying, and I don't even know it. (The knife clatters to the floor and Gabriel sinks to his knees. So much hope for this conversation to be real, yet knowing that it was merely a figment of his imagination. Just like his father's pride. Just like his mother's cure. But the voice spoke again.)_

 _ **You can fight this, Gabriel! Don't give in!**_

 _Give in to what, desperate needs? I can't do this anymore, this is too much. What else am I supposed to do, live as if I'm happy? Live as if I want this life? Live?_

 _ **No, but you can try to fix it. Look at the silver lining. To learn from experience, you must struggle through hardships. You don't know what the future contains for you. I know that you will do great things, Gabriel. I can see it. The future is a better place.**_

 _(A mirthless laugh. He picks up the blade once more.) How can I even trust what you're saying? You're just going to say that I'm loved by everyone. That I'm just a statistic._

 _ **You may not see it, but the people close to you do care for you. But if you keep holding that knife, you'll never understand. You'll never know.**_

 _What others show to me? That's not love. They've never shown me love. Especially my parents. I don't think I'm a their child in their eyes._

 _ **If that's true, then what is love? What have they not shown you?**_

 _They...I...I don't know._

 _ **Exactly. Please, Gabriel, put it down. I swear the future will be much better.**_

 _Really?_

 _ **Yes. You'll make your name your own, and you'll be able to find what you're looking for soon. You just need to open the black box, and I'll explain everything else later.**_

 _That's it?_

 _ **That's it.**_

 **...**

 _When he went to open the box, a light was unveiled that opened his eyes. And his life was never to be the same again._

* * *

 **A little boy forgets how to mourn**

 **Grows into a man, with hatred adorned**

 **Of a hero, dark villain will be born**

 **Yet to protect another he will have sworn**


	2. Chapter One: Clad in Spandex

The Papillon yawned. He was, at least, glad for the friend by his side. He had pulled an all-nighter the day before, hoping to ace his chemistry exam. It was not an easy subject. She seemed to notice:

"Have a long night?" The woman clad in blue and green grinned at him, a coy spark in her fox-like green eyes. Her long and straight blonde hair was tied in a simple ponytail and was held by a blue tie with a peacock design on the top. She twirled her fan idly with her hands, knowing that it would be too uncomfortable to put it on her back while sitting down. "Was it...pleasurable?"

The male frowned at her, wondering if she was toying with him. "Absolutely not. The text had no flow to it, and needlessly expects you to memorize every single piece of information that it throws at you...Are you coming onto me?" Gabriel flushed a bit underneath his mask, fiddling with his butterfly-shaped pin. He barely managed to avoid the kiss and tackling hug that she aimed towards him.

"Well, you _are_ pretty cute," Paonne said, "especially when you're all red and flustered."

Gabriel was mortified. "I _am not_ -" Fortunately the sound of static from the radio cut off their awkward conversation, and their attention sombered and turned towards the little device. "All units...section B4...immediate assistance needed..." The rest was too warbled and jumbled to recognize. Turning to look at Paonne, Gabriel realized that she had already gone, running along the rooftops towards the part of the city mentioned. With a smile, he followed suit, allowing the wings on the back of his uniform to spread and the wind caught him in its light and fluid grasp.

It wasn't long before they reached the destination, much before the "assistance" arrived. As usual. Two policemen were behind a tilted car, bits of the metal on fire. Bullets were rickoting off of it as well, and they were too afraid for their lives to try and jump for better cover or shoot the foe back. The two spandex-clad superheroes made their way over to the car and assumed their roles as if they had rehearsed for this millions of times before walking onto the battlefield. Papillon reached a hand on one of the policeman's shoulders, looking intently onto his dilated pupils. "Run for better cover. You won't be harmed. Wait for you comrades to come, and make sure you and your partner are safely behind the building behind. Remember, you won't be hurt." The tension leaked out of the man's muscles, and he seemed to grab his partner and run towards the building that Papillon had specified as if he was merely playing a game.

Meanwhile, Paonne had made herself useful by jumping and hurling herself from ledges and corners that were impossible for the average person to even see. Her metal fan reflected all the bullets aimed towards her, and she easily somersaulted over the adversary's head, landing an effective kick toward his temple. The man blacked out before he could even spot her correctly. Papillon made his way over to them, and the other superhero gave him a wide and proud smile. He replied with a cool gaze and, "Are you hurt?" The shake of her head was all the confirmation he needed. He knelt towards the man with the bloodied temple who was beginning to regain his senses.

"You are feeling guilty," Papillon said, staring into his blue eyes. He forced his voice to be soothing, and yet urged a bit more power and authority into it. "Why did you do this?"

The man's tongue moved on its own. "My...my children are starving. My wife is dying. There's nothing else I can do."

"Yes, there is. Look for a job. What would your children say when they come to visit you in a prison cell? This was not the right thing to do." By now the man was a sobbing mess, crying for his family and his financial situation and his fate.

"W-what should I do?"

"Plead guilty, explain your case in court. The worst sentence you can have is a couple of months. It's for the best." Gabriel sighed as he saw the tears coming out of the poor man's eyes. When you get down to crime, there were actually only a few cases where they did it out of malintention. "There's a cafe near the museum that is needing some more manpower. The pay isn't that bad and it can assure you a steady job." The man nodded eagerly, holding Papillon's hands before he could fully turn away. "T-thank you...thank you..."

With a grim nod, the superhero turned away. He wondered if what criminals really needed was a kind word instead of steel bars. Nevertheless, they could neither change nor break the law. It did, in a sense, keep them needed in the organized city. The Papillon and Paonne watched from a nearby rooftop as the police finally arrived, placing the guilty yet grateful man in the back of the car. "Nice work," Paonne stated, watching the car roll away. She gave his arm a playful punch, and he muttered something about manners. Honestly, it wasn't the hardest case that they had encountered; Papillon didn't even have to take out his weapons. "How'd you know about the job at that cafe? Do you go job hunting?"

Papillon rubbed the back of his neck nervously. "Something like that..." He regularly read the newspaper, finding himself occupied with each and every page. You never knew when that kind of information could come in handy. Not to mention Gabriel spend every moment looking for ways to _not_ be home. Even if that meant being a secretary at an office that may be on the verge of running down in flames. His butterfly pin rang impatiently, all the wings dulling out and informing him that he had little time left as the Papillon. The Paonne's own peacock hair tie was dulled. He gave a small smile, lighting up his grey eyes. The girl grinned back, throwing her arms around his shoulders in a tight hug.

"See you on patrol tomorrow?"

"Patrol tomorrow," he promised. They separated, and Gabriel swung down into a shadowed alley, untransforming as soon as he hit the ground. An exhausted purple fairy landed in his cupped hands, and he spoke words of encouragement and promise for her. "C'mon, Nooroo. I'll get you some fruit back home. Let's see if Father noticed my absence."

The fairy smiled up at him, allowing herself to be put into an inside pocket. This boy had great things awaiting for him in the future.

* * *

 _Papillon_ \- 'butterfly' (French)

 _Paonne_ \- 'peahen' (French)

((note: so basically their names are Papillon and Paonne, as are LadyBug and Chat Noir))


	3. Chapter Two: Leather-Bound

((I'm sorry I'm draining and so done with APs, and my test taking time isn't even over yet...I cri...sorry for a pretty bad update thnx to the, like, three of you reading this))

* * *

School was, needless to say, boring. Gabriel Agreste didn't understand why he had to come to this "school" establishment, knowing just fine that he could learn quicker and better at home, with tutors. It wasn't like he couldn't afford, or didn't have the time to. Well, _now_ he didn't. Because of stupid school.

He knew he was being childish, and knew exactly why his father had sent him here: _It's for your benefit,_ he could hear the old man saying _, Build relationships, talk with people. There's no way in the world you can succeed without having control over people. And the first step is in meeting them._

"Agreste, please face the board. Perhaps chemistry isn't one of your passions, but the least you can do is pay attention. Would you care to tell us what the answer the current problem is?" It took him a split second to look down onto his book and read the question; it took another to answer.

"Since the color of the aqueous solution is blue, the dissolved ion is copper because iron is red, bicarbonate is colorless, and silver is only soluble with nitrate."

"Well done." The professor turned back to the class. "Now remember, these things won't be solved with either logic or the equations on the sheet of paper, so make sure to memorize these for the exam. Also..." Gabriel tuned her out again, but more discreetly. He opened his sketchbook, sliding it halfway under his chemistry notes, and began to give his imagination a physical form. The simple lines on the paper turned into a gown-sort of dress: the strapless dress was for a woman's body, and the bottom resembled a sort of upside-down morning glory. _It would look good in a hue of purple_ , he thought to himself, working on defining the lines more, _but perhaps it should be more variant, maybe even a strange sort of motley, or striped..._

The hairs on the back of his neck prickled, his so-called "sixth sense" telling him subconsciously that there was attention focused on him. He turned to see around the room, but he could see anybody looking his way. He was just being paranoid, right? The book was wide open and exposed for everyone to see. Flushing, he turned back and quickly closed the sketchbook, wondering if some more of the rumors were going to be spread. He had enough of his father complaining about being 'feminine' at home that he wasn't sure if he would be able to tolerate it at school as well. Closing his eyes and taking deep breaths, he expelled his father's voice from his head. Some days he wondered if he was going crazy, hearing voices and seeing things. Sometimes he even doubted the existence of his trusted companion, Nooroo. Then again, he couldn't have possibly dreamt all those nights out with Paonne; he was pretty sure that hallucinations weren't _that_ real, or dreams _that_ specific.

Finally, _finally_ , the bell rang and they were dismissed for lunch. The blonde male was the first out of the classroom, apologizing half-heartedly as his teacher reminded him not to run. The pavilion was soon to be packed and Gabriel knew it was best to stick to his regular schedule: get food as quickly as he could, then escape towards the library or another one of his hiding holes. God knew that he wasn't good with this whole 'popularity' and 'friendship' thing. Keeping his head down and his eyes glued to the tiled floor of the cafeteria, he paid for a sandwich (and a fruit cup for the purple fairy in his bag) he immediately stuffed inside of his backpack. He wasn't that hungry; he would eat later. He retreated towards a quiet corner of the library, wondering if he would be able to finish that purple dress. He retreated back into his mind, scolding himself for his earlier thought. Motley? What the hell was he thinking?

And where the hell was his sketchbook?

He opened his bag, looking between the underneath all his schoolwork for the precious, leather-bound sketchbook that he like to keep. Nooroo stuck her head out of the side pocket that she stayed in. They had this weird link of emotional understanding, and this time was no different from the past. "You might've left it inside the classroom," she offered in consolation.

Muttering curses under her breath, he rushed out of the library and back towards his classroom, bumping into his classmate in the process. He managed to grab her shoulders before he toppled them both over and instead found himself captured in a gaze of green. He could feel her soft skin exposed by the tank-top she wore and her blonde hair was tied in a single ponytail that cascaded down her left side and almost amused green eyes that peered through his own and read the very thoughts of his mind-Gabriel Agreste let go and backed away from her as if he had been prodded with a hot iron rod. He felt blood rush into his cheek and cursed himself.

"Hey, I-" He cut her off before she could speak and before they could start a real conversation. "Sorry, really, bye." He shook his hand hesitantly and ran up the stairs.

He didn't see the girl give him a curious look before shrugging and walking towards the library, wondering how many more drawings were in that leather-bound book.

Instead, he knocked impatiently on the door of his classroom, apologizing yet once more to his teacher. "Is there a sketchbook here? Leather, about this big?" He held his hands up and gestured towards a rectangular sort of shape. His teacher shook his head, and Gabriel could feel his heart sinking. "Sorry Mr. Agreste. There's nothing on the tables or floor."

This was not good.

Lunch ended by the time he backtracked his steps thrice, looking in the cafeteria, library, and even the lost and found in the principal's office. The rest of the day passed in a daze, teen unable to think about anything else than his lost sketchbook. Somebody took it, but who? Would they do something with it? Would they see his name on it? (It was tiny print, but still). Would they give it to his father? Would they throw it away? The possibilities were endless. The bell rang and he was, once again, one of the first ones out of class. The depressed and somber teen walked his way towards the library; his father had an important business meeting and _would prefer him to not enter the house before six-thirty_. Gabriel may have been able to say something about being kicked out of his own legal home, but this was neither the first nor last time.

The quiet sanctuary seemed to soothed his feelings, and he wondered if he would be able to finish his homework here. He didn't have much, just some math problems, so perhaps he could pick up a book and check it out (in secret from his father, of course)-

"Mr. Agreste?" The librarian tapped him on the shoulder; almost against his will, he jumped into position to defend himself. The tension relaxed from his shoulders when he could spot no dangerous people and/or things nearby. He sighed. "I'm sorry. I suppose I'm jumpy from a long day."

"No, no it' s my fault startled you." From the adult's hand, a familiar leather-bound book was held out towards him. "Someone left this here, although I wasn't able to catch who. It had a post-it on it, claiming 'property of Gabriel Agreste.' This is yours, I presume?"

Gabriel was speechless. Out of all the possibilities, someone just handing it back to him was not one he anticipated. "I-I...thank you. Yes, it is mine. Thank you, I thought I lost it..."

"No worries." More smiles and 'thank you's later, Gabriel sat behind one of the bookshelves, homework forgotten, and flipped through the pages. Everything was intact, save for the multiple post-its stuck to the almost every page.

 _ **I really like this design. It reminds me of a rose.**_

Huh. He thought it looked like a cake. Or maybe a really tall ziggurat.

 _ **This might look better simpler and shorter. Unless if you're aiming to make a summer dress for the winter.**_

Good point. Gabriel erased the complex pattern but kept it in mind for another piece, and adjusted the length. Wow, it _did_ look better.

 _ **Try alternating the different flowers as checkerboard instead of rows.**_

Gabriel made a note in with pencil in for later.

 _ **Is this one for a taller person?**_

Was it? Maybe he was, just subconsciously. He was glad for another person's opinion, he realized with a startle. It also made his designs better.

 _ **Why do you only design dresses? Not that I'm complaining, but you seem to have good style. Try suits or pants.**_

Gabriel made a face. He wasn't _that_ confident in his skills. Besides, he had to practice in secret.

 _ **This looks like something an American would wear, haha.**_

Gabriel smiled, before letting out a soft chuckle.

 _ **W-o-a-h. Nice cubic touch.**_

For some reason Gabriel could hear the author's voice, an abstract thought in the back of his mind that read the post-it- comments in a different voice than his. However, he wouldn't be able to tell for the life of him if the author was female or male, had a high- or low-pitched voice. It was just one of those things that was able to be, mentally. It was sort of like Nooroo communicating with him while he was Papillion, a sort of "in your mind" phenomenon.

 _ **I'm convinced you're a real designer. Could you make something for me next time?**_

Gabriel flushed, wondering who this person was, although glad that they had taken it far better turn than he had expect. The final post-it note, stuck onto a blank page, made him hesitate.

 _ **Leave the notebook again tomorrow and talk to you again?**_ Should he? Was this a safe call? Was this going to lead to some sort of blackmail or taunting? Gabriel felt that he could never be too safe, especially around people. People were prone to backstabbing you and turning back for their own gain. With his father deeply tied into the finance, management, and stocks business it wasn't too rare to see that sort of displayed behavior.

Gabriel went home, clutching his black leather-bound book to his chest and a smart sort of battle going on in both his heart and his head.


End file.
